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NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. NO PLAYS SENT ON APPROVAL. 



PRACTICAL INSTRUCTIONS 

FOR 

PRIVATE THEATRICALS 

By W. D. EMERSON. 

Author of "A'lCountry Romance," "The Unknown Rival." "Hum- 
ble Pie," etc. 

Price, 25 cents. 

^ Here is a practical hand-book, describing in detail all the ac- 
cessories, properties, scenes and apparatus necessary for an ama- 
teur production. In addition to the descriptions in words, every- 
thing is clearly shown in the numerous pictures, more than one- 
hundred being inserted in the book. No such useful book has 
ever been offered to the amateur players of any country. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter I. Introductory Remarks. 

Chapter II. Stage, How to Make, etc. m drawing-rooma 
or parlors, with sliding or hinged doors. In a single large room. 
The Curtain; how to attach it, and raise it, etc. 

Chapter III. Arrangement of Scenery. How to hang it; 
Drapery, tormentors, wings, borders, drops. 

Chapter IV. Box Scenes. Center door pieces, plain wings, 
door wings, return pieces, etc. 

Chapter V. How to Light the Stage. Oil, gas and electric 
lights. Footlights, Sidelights, Reflectors. How to darken the 
stage, etc. 

Chapter VI. Stage Effects. Wind, Rain, Thunder, Break- 
ing Glass, Falling Buildings, Snow, Water, Waves, Cascades, 
Passing Trains, Lightning, Chimes, Sound of Horses' Hoofs, Shots. 

Chapter VII. Scene Painting. 

Chapter VIII. A Word to the Property Man. 

Chapter IX. To the Stage Manager. 

Chapter X. The Business Manager. 



Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

CHICAGO. 



a^ SPECIAi:- NOTICE.— All Eights Ersebved.— This play is duly projected by 
copyright. Managers and actors -wishing to produce it must obtain the consent of 
the publishers. It may, however, be produced by amateurs without permission. 

UNDER TWO FLAGS. 



A ROMANTIC PLAY, 



IN F OUE ACTS. 



DRAMATIZED FROM OIUDA'S FAMOUS NOVEL 



By a. MITCHELL. 



TOGETHEB WITH 



▲ DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES— CAST OF THE CHARACTERS — ^EN- 
TRANCES AND EXITS — RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORM- 
ERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE 



CHICAGO: 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

Copyright, 1893, by R. H. Russell k Sow. 



UNDER TWO FLAGS 



CHARACTERS. 

Bertie Cecil, of the First Life Guards; afterwards known as Louis Victor. 

Berkeley Cecil, his brother. 

Lord Rockingham, known as The Seraph. 

Rake, an Irish knight of the pigskin. 

Colonel Chateauboy, called the Black Hawk. 

Ben Davis, a Welcher. 

Baboni, a Jewish money lender. 

Captain Leboux, \ 

Petit Picpon, C of the Chasseurs. 

PlEBKE MaTOTT, ) 

Cigarette, the Friend of the Flag. 

Venetia, Lord Rockingham's sister; afterwards Princess Corona. 

Lady Guenevkre. 

Nora McShane, Venetia's maid. 

Djelma, An Arab girl. 

Troopers of the Chasseurs, etc. 



Pl?452.7 

. LLg 



SCENE PLOT. 
ACT I.— Platform across stage in3rd. grooves. Landscape in 4th, 

Platform. 



Balustrade., 



Balustrade. 



Chair. 



Garden bench. 



Steps. 



Obair. 



Set cottage. 



ooooooooo oooooo 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Cut'itd RecEivt; 

AUG. 3^' ^90f-, 



Door. 



ACT II. 




Ancient street flat. 
Gvns stiic!E^4, ; 



r ;Entnince. , • 



O Table. 



Door. 



Table. O 
Chair. * * Chair. 



ooooooooooooooooo 



/t-^lyfs 



UNDER TWO FLAGS 



ACT III.— Fancy Drawing-room scene in 3rd grooves. 



0. D. 

.• o o •. 

Small table. Small table. 

Door. Door. 

Sofa.""""ii^"iii" 

*o* 

Table and chairs. 

o Footstool. 
O O 

ooooooooooooooooo 

ACT IV. 
Dark wood. " 



Wood wings. 



Set prison l. 2 e. 



O O 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 



TIME IN PLAYING— TWO AND A QUARTER HOURS. 



COSTUMES. 

Bebtie Cecil.- Act I., Jockey suit, colors scarlet and white. Acts II„ III., and 
IV., French corporal's uniform. 

Bebkelbt Cecil.- Act I., Light checkered trousers, light coat. Act III., Full 
dress suit. 

LoKD Rockingham.— Act I., English riding suit. Act IV., Dark travelling suit. 

Rake.- -Act I., Dark livery. Acts II., III., and IV., French uniform. 

Colonel Chateauroy.— French colonel's uniform throughort. 

Ben Davis.— Act I., White trousers, boot tops, black coat, white hat with black band. 

Baroni.— Jewish costume and make up. 

Captain Leroux.— French captain's uniform. * • ; 

PicpoN — French uniform. 

Pierre Matou. — French uniform. 

Cioarette.— Vivandier's dress, short, tri-color, all through piece; wears cross of 
Legion of Honor after second act. 

Venetia Cobona.— Act I., Light summer dress. Act II., Silver-gray train riding 
habit; hat, gloves, and whip. Act III., Handsome train house dress. Act 
IV., Rich dark train dress; lace for head, small handbag. 

Ladh Guenevere.— Act I., Stylish summer costume; parasol, gloves, and handker- 
chief; ribbon to match Bertie's jockey suit, scarlet and white. 

Nora McShane.— Neat waiting maid's dress; cap, etc. 

Djelma.— Fancy Arab costume. 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 



PROPERTIES. 



Act I.— Garden bench, two rustic chairs, tray and glass of brandy, steel bar for 
bell, coat, whip and cigarettes for Bertie; check, small note-book and pencil for 
Berkeley; pair of boots and letter for Rake; pxirse and money for Venetia; check 
for Baroni and Rockingham. 

Act II. — Two common tables, six tin cups, box of chessmen, and pitcher of tea 
on table; lot of letters, packages and documents for Cig arete; cigarettes for Vic- 
tor; sword for Chateaurot; rose for Venetia; newspaper for Rake; coins for 
Chateauroy. 

Act III.— C. D. curtains; fancy furniture; pen, ink, paper, lighted lamp, books, 
chessmen on table; document for Chateauroy. 

Act rv.— Five guns, two sure fire; note-book and pencil for Venetia; document 

for CiaARETTE. 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS. 

Act I,— England— Down on the Shires— The great race— The forged note— A 
steeplechase for life. 

Act n.— Algiers— After twelve years— Arrival of Cigarette with papers — A soldier 
of France— Capture of the Arab chiefs wife — Dispatches from Algiers. 

Act III.— Evening at the Nest of the Silver Pheasant— The Little Leopard of 
France—" I could kill you, and I will 1 "—The blow—" You lie, and you know you 
lie!" 

Act IV. — An interval of two days— The camp in the desert an hour before sun- 
rise—To the Grand Marshal— Lady Venetia's appeal to Black Hawk— The meeting 
of Rockingham and Victor— "I am ready; give your signal I "—Timely arrival of 
Cigarette— •« France I France I "—Death of Cigarette. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 



R. means Right of Stage, facing the Audience; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Right of 
Centre; L. C. Left of Centre; D. F. Door in the Flat, or Scene running across the 
back of the Stage; C. D. F. Centre Door in the Flat; R. D. F. Right Door in the 
Flat; L. D. F. Left Door in the Flat; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door; 1 E. First 
Entrance; 2 E. Second Entrance; U.E. Upper Entrance; 1, 2 or 3 G. First, Second 
or Third Groove. 

R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 

49- The reader is supposed to be upou the stage, facing the audience. 



UNDER T¥0 FLAGS. 



ACT I. 

SC^l^'E,— Landscape in Uh grooves; platform in Srd ; balustrade Srd; 
wood wings ; set cottage l. 2 e. ; steps c. ; garden bench r. 1 e. ; 
chair L. 1 E. ; chair up R. c. 

At rise of curtain Rake enters, c, singing, loith a pair of boots in his 

hand. 

Rake (sings). 

"There was plenty of gold and of silver 
From the Isle of Connaught to Tralee, 
And the diamonds all turned to potaties, 
And the divil an acre have we." 

Begorra ! It's mighty particular the master is about his boots until 
he puts his foot in them, then it's divil a care, and they come back look- 
ing like a bog-trotting carbeen. But he's a rale gintleman, as proud as 
Julius Caesar, and as kind as the blessed Virgin; and such a rider; sure 
there's never a bit of water so wide or a bush so high but he's over it 
like a lark. 

Enter Lord Rockingham, r. u. e. 

Rockingham. Where is your master ? 

Rake. Dressing himself, yer honor. 

Rock. Dressing ! {looks at icatch) Why, it lacks but fifteen minutes of 
starting time. 

Rakk. Yes, and mesilf made so bold as to tell him so, and he finished 
his cup of coflee, and says he, "If I'm not ready thev can wait." 

Rock. Confound his indifference ! I wonder if he realizes that he car- 
ries all the Guards' money. I haven't hedged a shilling I stand to wm 
on Cecil and the King. Think he'll win ? 

Rake. Win is it ? Sure the horse that beats Forest King will have to 
have wings. There's some good ones in the race though, and it will be 
hard work for the leader; but the King— St. Patrick" preserve him— 
he'll not fail yer, yer honor, {gonq rings'.) 

Voice {outside). Take the field", bar one ! 

Rock. They're getting ready for the start ! For Heaven's sake go 
tell your master to hurry! [Exit Rake into house, l. 

Enter Berkeley, r. u. e. 

Berkeley. Ah, Rockingham ! Bertie out yet ? 
Rock. No; dressing, as usual. 



6 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Berk. I've just had a look at Forest King; he'll stay. 

Rock. Of course he will, with all our pots on him. He's too much of 
a gentleman to put us all up a tree; besides, that horse knows he car- 
ries the honor of the whole regiment. 

Berk. There are some good horses entered. Day Star is a splendid 
fencer, and for a brook jumper Wild Geranium can't be beaten. The 
worst of it is, Bertie is in no condition for hard riding. 

Rock. Fact — hasn't trained a bit; he doesn't believe in it; and how 
a man who spends his time drinking champagne and dancing is going 
to be in hard riding trim, beats me. 

Enter Lady Guenevere, from house. 

Lady Guenevere. Ah, gentlemen, is it nearly time for the start? 

Rock. Yes; the saddling bell has already rung, but Bertie isn't out 
yet. 

Lady G. Oh yes he is; I saw him five minutes ago. I have six boxes 
of gloves bet on him ; and see, I wear his colors, {shows colors.) 

Rock. Then there'll be no doubt of his winning, for Bertie Cecil never 
disappoints a lady, {gong) Shall we go to the grand stand ? 

Lady G. No ; the crowd is too great for me ; and besides we have a 
fine view of the course from here, {gong) Rockingham helps Lady G. on 
chair.) 

Voice {outside). Take the field ! Bar one ! {shouts repeatedly.) 

Enter Rake, from house. 

Second Voice. Two to one on Forest King ! {shouts.) 

First Voice. Ten to five on Wild Geranium ! {shouts.) 

Second Voice. Take the field ! Bar one ! {shouts.) 

Rock. See, the flag is dropped; they're ofl ! {shouts.) 

Berk. Bertie has the start. No, the Irish mare passes him like light- 
ning ! {shouts.) 

Rock. Wild Geranium is neck and neck with him— now they come to 
the first fence ! They're over ! {s//ouis.) 

Berk. That chestnut is not to be beaten. See, she passes the King. 

Lady G. He'll win ! He'll win ! I know he will ! 

Berk. The chestnut is even with him. {shouts) Ye gods ! Bertie is 
riding cautiously. What's up ? 

Lady G. Quick, Bertie! they're gaining on you! 

Rock. Two- thirds of the course is run. Now comes a yawner ! Forest 
King is over like a bird ! {sliouts.) 

Berk. The chestnut is over with him ! {shouts) Wild Geranium's in 
the brook ! {lo7id laughing by voices outside.) 

First Voice. The King wins ! 

Second Voice. Scarlet and white ahead ! 

First Voice. Ten to five on the chestnut, {continued shouts outside.) 

Rock. Bertie has it ! 

Berk. Not yet. 

Voices {outside). The Guards ! The Guards have it! 

Rock. Now for the last fence. The chestnut is even with him ? Now, 
Bertie, now ! Now one touch of your spurs. There, he's over ! {shouts 
outsmle) The chestnut won't jump ! 

Voices {outside). The Guards ! The Guards! 

Rake. By the cats of Kilkenny ! St. Patrick himself couldn't have 
done it better. [Exit into house, l. 



TJITOEB TWO FLAGS. 7 

Rock. Yes, he's alone at the finish; he has passed the wire, and here 
he comes ! {helps Lady G. from chair ; she sits r. on bench.) 

Enter Bertie Cecil, l. u. e., amid shouts from outside. Rockingham 
assists him. with coat. 

Bertie Cecil. I'd give the world for a brandy and soda, I'm so deuced 
thirsty. 

Rock, {helping Bertie to put on coat). "Well, upon my word ! One 
would think by your indifference that you had lost instead of won. 

Brrt. Well, they did give me a close rub, and the vase was his as 
much as mine, for had his horse been as good fencer as he is a water 
jumper, we should have been neck and neck at the linish. 

Rock. Well, you did it handsomely; you sustained the honor of the 
regiment, and I congratulate you. {shakes hands.) 

Exit Rockingham into house. Enter Rake, with tray and brandy and 
soda. Bertie drinks. Exit Rake, with tray and glass, into 
house. 

Lady G. Superbly ridden. But, Bertie, you would have lost had 
it not been for that last leap. 

Bert. If I could not have been victorious while you looked on I 
should never have lived to meet you here. 

Lady G. {laughing). Now you are getting sentimental— that amuses 
me. Tell me, Bertie, is it so very delightful, this desperate effort to 
break your neck ? 

Bert. Well, there is a great deal to be said for it; and until one has 
broken his neck the excitement does not entirely wear off. But so 
many people break their necks nowadaj^s, doing the Alps and all that 
sort of thing, that I fear we shall soon have nothing left to ourselves. 

Lady G. {laughing). Not even the monopoly of sporting suicide. 
That is hard! 

Bert. But suppose that I had really broken my neck, would you 
have cared ? 

Lady G. Cared ? Why, Bertie ! 

Bert. You know that the Jews are down on me. That I'm head 
over heels in debt. Now, suppose that I had come to grief— dropped 
out of the world altogether. 

Lady G. It would have broken my heart. 

Bert. I didn't know that you had a heart to break. 

Lady G. I remember not long ago the body of a young man was 
found in the Seine, and in his hand he held a lock of golden hair— now 
that man knew how to die gracefully. 

Bert. Died for a woman ? Ah ! Well, I don't think I should have 
done that— not even for you — at least not while I had a cigarette left. 
{lights cigarette.) 

Lady G. No; there is not enough romance in your nature. But I 
can recall that night when the horses ran away, and you risked your 
life to save mine. 

B6:rt. That was a ticklish situation, wasn't it? The horses had been 
used to following the buck hounds, and when the stags started up in 
front of them there was no holding them back. 

Lady G. Yes, and should my husband hear of that ride, even now — I 
tremble to think of the consequences. 

Bert. Rest assured. I give you my word he shall never know that; 
you were with me on that evening. 



8 ' UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Lady G. I know that you will keep your word; and we must remem- 
ber that there are fom' hours in both our lives that must be hidden 
from this world forever, {during this speech she rises, Bertie takes her 
hand, and as she gets to house, kisses it.) [Exit vito house. 

Bert. Now, there's the advantage of making love to a woman whe 
has a husband— she can't marry you. 

Enter Rake, r 3. e. 

Well, Rake, how does the King stand the strain? 

Rake. Bright as a bird and as frisky as the girls of Kerry. 

Bert. Go to my room; there you will find some bracelets on a table, 
with a note; deliver them to the address. {Raky. starts to go) Stay! On 
your way back get some Banbury bits; we'll want new ones. 

Rake. Aye, aye, sir. {aside) Sure, it's an ambassador I am, with more 
perfumed notes and jewelries, and the divil know what, since the days 
of Brian Boroimhe. [Exit mto house. 

Enter Berkeley, r. u. e. 

Bert. Ah ! youngster, how are you ? 

Berk. Beastly ! 1 say, Bert, are you in a hurry ? 

Bert. Yes, a deuce of a hurry; why? 

Berk. I'm in a hole— no end of a hole. 

Bert. Nothing serious, I hope ? 

Berk. I want some money. 

Bert. So do I; it's the normal condition of man to want money. 
For what? 

Berk. I lost a couple of hundred at chicken-hazard last night, and I 
told Poulteney I would settle to-day, but I have no idea where I am 
going to get the money, unless you let me have it. 

Bert. I? Way I'm' in no end of a hole myself. But there, there, 
don't worry about it; do as 1 do — take disagreeable things up in the 
morning with your coflee, and put them down'with it. 

Berk. Ah ! It's well enough to talk that way, but I tell you unless I 
pay to-day I'm ruined. 

Bert. Ruined! See here, youngster, you'll bring disgrace on all of 
us some day. 

Berk. How brutal you are, Bertie; are you such a mirror of virtue 
yourself? I suppose my debts at the worst are about one-fifth of yours. 

Bert. I'm not a good one for you to copy; I don't think I ever told 
you I was — however, that is not the point. You want £200. Go to 
the governor, tell him all; he'll not refuse you; you were always his 
favorite. 

Berk. I'd rather shoot myself than ask him for money. He's in 
trouble about the mortgage ; the holder threatens to foreclose. 

Bert. Foreclose ! Is it possible ? 

Berk. Yes; I'd rather cut my throat than ask him for money now. 

Bert. See here, youngster, if I had the money it should be yours, but 
I'm in no end of trouble myself; my own debts may be called in at any 
moment, and when they are I must cut, run, leave the country. I have 
really less that I can call my own than the man who tends my horses, 
but I am heavily backed for the next race, and if I win I will let you 
have some money. 

Berk. Bert, thVre is one way you could help me now, if you would. 

Bert. I really don't see how. 

Berk. I am not of age, and of course my signature is of no use. 



TINDER TWO FLAGS. 9 

Now you are such chums with Rockingham, and he's as rich as all the 
Jews put together. He'd let you have the money in a minute; now 
won't you ? 

Bert. What you ask is impossible. If I did such a thing as that I 
should deserve to be hounded out of the Guards to-morrow. 

Berk. You speak as though it would be a crime. 

Bert. It would be a trick of a swindler, and it would be the shame 
off a gentleman. That is answer enough. 

Berk. Then you will not do it ? 

Bert. {c7'osses to house). I have replied already. Although our 
father is a peer of England, we are none the less penniless beggars. 
What right have we to borrow of our friends ? 

[Exit into house. (Plaintive music.) 

Berk, (looks afte?- hi7n).WhaX is to he done? I was sure he would 
let me have the money. The note Is due to-day. I dare not ask the 
governor for it, and I have not the courage to face the consequences. 
Nothing remains for me but to leave this place forever, {takes out note 
book, crosses to bench and writes) "Bert, I asked you for money; it 
was not to pay a gambling debt. I forged your name and Rocking- 
ham's to a note that is due to-day. I thought you would let me have 
the money; but now nothing remains for me but to cut and run, as I 
dare not face the governor. Yours, etc., Berkeley." {folds note) I will 
hand this to Rake. [Exit, r. 1 e. 

Entei' Davis, l. 3 e., looking around cautiously, beckons on Baroni. 
Slow music. 

Davis. There ! That's done, and if that horse wins again with a 
painted bit I'm a Dutchman. 

Baroni. Vat a child you vas. You make so much noise the whole 
house vill hear you. 

Dav. That cursed swell ; I've paid him off at last. 

Bar. Vat a child you vas to spoil so good a horse just because his 
master kicked you into the ditch. 

Dav. It was a bad day for him when he did it, curse him ! Those 
stuck-up swells, they won't give in— not even when they are mortal 
hit. 

Bar. Veil, vat's the difference, so long as you Jiave hit 'em and you 
pocket the monish, 

Dav. Oh, hang the blunt; it's revenge I want. Now see here, my 
pigeon, you put that swell to the grindstone for the second act of our 
comedy. 

Bar. Comedy— comedy: it's more like a tragedy. Just you wait 
until after the next race, and don't you put your big paw in it, or you'll 
ipoil the pudding. 

Dav. You know as well as I do that I can't show in the game; oh, 
but bless me, I'd like to. 

Bar. Say, what if Rockingham should pay up to save his friend ? 

Dav. What ! without wringing my dainty bird's neck? No, not for all 
the money of the Rotlischilds. But when'l see him smashed, crushed, 
Jruined, then I'll have my revenge. 

Bar. Oh, vat a child you vas, (aside) und vat a damn fool, {aloud) 
Veil, you take the revenge and I'll take the monish, my dear. 

Enter Rake, l. u. e., sees Baroni and Davis. 
Rake. Hello ! By the soul of Sally Callahan, if there ain't as purty a 



10 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

pair of divils as iver put foot to ground, {aloud) Hello ! what are you 
up to here ? 

Bar. Nothing; we — we were just taking a walk in the park. 

Rake. Taking a walk ; and are you sure it's nothing else you're tak- 
ing ? But whos your mate over there wid a face on him like the day 
after Donnybrook fair ? 

Bar. He's a cousin o' mine out o' Yorkshire. 

Dav. Yes, I be his cousin out of Yorkshire, just come down to see 
the races, {upoken in Yorkshire dialect.) 

Rake. Well, you look more like yer come to yer own funeral; sure, 
if it's wanting a race yes are, I'll give yer one with the dogs, {iv/ustles 
offR.) 

Dav. {starts for Rake, is stopped hy Baroni). What, you infernal 
Irishman; you set the dogs on me? 

Rake. Sure, I don't think they'd hurt you; that face of yours would 
scare the whole pack of them . 

Dav. {starts for Rake; Baroni stops him). You infernal hostler, I'll 
wring your neck ! 

Bar. {aside to Davis). Vat a child you vas. Don't got so excited. 
Come, we'll settle with him after the master. {Exit, l. u. e. 

Dav. {looks fier cell/ at Rake). 1 11 see you again, and when I do I'll 
kick that Irish" head of yours into a cocked hat. {Exit, l. u. e. 

Rake. Maybe you'd better take the measure of me head now, so it 
will be sure and tit. Faith, with two dirty blackguards like that to- 
gether there's dirty work to be done somewhere, and, by the same 
token, I've seen that Yorkshire lad before. By the rock of Cashel, if it 
ain't the same welcher that Mr. Cecil threw out of the betting ring. 
Bedad, I'll keep me eyes on them, and if there's anything wrong I'll 
give them a taste of as elegant a piece of blackthorn as ever cracked a 
head at Donnybrook. {Irish specialty— song and dance.) {Exit, r. 1 e. 

Enter Bertie and Rockingham /rom house. Bertie sits r. ; Rocking- 
ham L. 

Rock. Lady Guenevere is certainly a very charming woman. I 
would give a great deal if she thought as much of me as she does of you. 

Bert. She is a very charming woman; but, do you know, she loves 
nothing in this world as much as her family diamonds. 

Rock, {laughs). Confound you. You require too much sentiment. 

Bert, {lighting cigarette). Seraph, I've been thinking 

Rock, {laughing). You don't mean it. Never let it be known, or 
you'll lose your reputation. 

Bert. I've been thinking what a fellow might do if he came to 
grief— dropped out of the world altogether. IK you know, I think 
there are vast fields open. 

Rock. Gold fields ? 

Bert. No, no; I mean a field for— what d'ye call it— genius— that's 
the word. 

Rock. Nonsense. You'd better be thinking of the next race. Are 
you sure of yourself? 

Bert. I am never sure of anything, much less myself. 

Rock. Then what the deuce do "you mean by telling us to pile our 
pots on 5'ou ? 

Bert. My friend, I may disappoint you, but Forest King neyer will. 

Enter Rake, quickly, b. u. b. 



TJNDEK TWO FLAGS. 11 

Rake. Mr. Cecil, there is something the matter with the King. (Ber- 
tie a7id Rockingham both rise and exclaim The King !) 

{Exit Rockingham, r. u. e. 

Rake. It's as true as I'm me father's son, the elegant beast is all 
aheap in his stall. 

Bert. Some one must have doctored him. 

Rake. Doctored or poisoned; it's all the same thing. 

Enter Lady GuENEVERE/ro?7i house. 

Lady G. Why, how serious you look, Bertie. What has happened ? 

Bert. Something is the matter with the King, {to Rake) Go get a 
veterinary at once, {exit Rake, r. u. e. Aside) There goes the last 
plank that stood between me and ruin. 

Enter Rockingham, r. u. e. 

Rock. Yes, it is too true; the King is completely knocked off his 
legs. Some one must have doctored him. Only let me find the villain. 

Bert. When you do, leave him to me. My lady, I trust you will ex- 
cuse me. {Exit, R. u. e. 

Lady G. {to Rockingham). Is it true; will he not he tit for the race? 

Rock. No, I fear Forest King has run his last race. 

Lady G. It is too bad. Bertie depended greatly on this race, and 
the Guards will lose heavily too. 

Rock. Yes, they will be hard hit, not so much on account of the 
money, but the fame of the regiment rested on this race. 

Lady G. I feel so sorry for Bertie, and the field will be without a 
favorite, {exit into house. Lights turned down. Rockingham starts 
io follow.) 

Enter Baroni, r. u. e., who stops him. 

Bar. The most noble, the Marquis of Rockingham, I think ? 

Rock. Yes; what do you want ? 

Bar. I want to ask your lordship is that your signature? {shows 
forged note. ) 

Rock, {looking at it). No, I never made my R's half so well as that. 
{turns to go.) 

Bar. One moment, if you please; I want to ask you one more ques- 
tion. Did you endorse a bill on the fifteenth of the month ? 

EocK. The fifteenth ? No ; why do you ask ? 

Bar. I will tell your lordship if you will grant me a private interview. 

Rock. Well, step into the house, {exit Baroni in house). That little 
piece of paper looked very strange. I wish I had admitted the signa- 
ture. Some poor devil will be getting into a scrape, {follows Baroni.) 

Enter Bertie, r. 3 e. 

Bert. Poor King! To break up hke a hack out of a Uvery stable. 
It seemed to me he almost knew my trouble from the way he looked at 
me. {hell) Five o'clock. In three hours I am expected at a ball, where 
all will be bright and happy; and in three hours I will perhaps be an 
alien. 

Enter Rake, r. 3 e. 

Rake. Mr. Cecil, the doctor is with the King. I met Mr. Berkeley 



12 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

as I was coming back, and he gave me this letter to give to you, 
sor. {hands letter.) 

Bert, {sits l.). Very well. See that everything possible is done for 
the King, and don't leave the stable, {exit Rake, r. u. e.) How gladly 
would 1 exchange places with that fellow. Better be one of them than 
trained for the great race, entered with cracks and weighted with the 
chains of poverty. 

Enter Venetia, l. 1 e. 

Ah, little one, where are all your playmates ? {plaintive music.) 

Venetia {kneeling at his side). Oh, I don't care for children. Mr. 
Cecil, they say that you have lost all your money. Is it true ? 

Bert. Do they ? They are not far wrong then. But who are 
"they," little one? 

Ven. Why, everybody ; and they say you are ruined. Is that true, 
too? 

Bert. I am afraid it is. But what do you know of these things; and 
how did you find me here? 

Vex. Now please don't be angry. I came because I heard you had 
lost all your money, and I want you to take mine, {shows purse.) 

Bert, {drawing her to him). How some man will love you some 
day. I thank you from my heart. 

Ve.v. {empties coins in his hand). See ! it's all bright gOid, and if it 
is not enough my brother Rock will give you more, {gives purse and, 
all to him.) 

Bert. God bless you, my little friend, (kisses her forehead.) 

Ven. Then you will take it ? 

Beiit No, no, I cannot take your money, my chiUl, {giving it back] 
but I love you none the less because I refuse it. 

Ven. Then you will take nothing ? {r/ses.) 

Bert, {rising, drops letter). I will take this little purse if you will 
give it to me, and keep it in memory of you. May I ? 

Ven. Yes. Oh see, Mr. Cecil, you have dropped something, (picks 
up letter and hands it to him.) 

Bert. You will allow me ? (o/)^n5 «^(i rea(Z.s' letter) "Bert, I asked 
you for money. It was not to pay a gambling debt. I forged your 
name and Rockingham's to a note that is due to-day. I thought you 
would let me have the money; but now nothing remains for me but to 
cut and run, as I dare not face the governor. Yours, etc., Berkeley." 
Shameful ! Shameful ! 

Ven. What is it ? Anything worse ? 

Bert. There could be nothing worse. It's the vilest, blackest shame. 
There, there, run into the house, and tell no living creature what I 
have told you. {takes her totvard house.) 

Ven. I would rather stay with you. 

Bert. No, go dear; you would please me better by going. You will 
tell no one ? I can trust you ? 

Ven. Yes, Mr. Cecil, you can trust me. [E.xit into house. 

Bert. Oh, God ! If it were anything — anything except disgrace. 
Forgery! I wonder if the boy knew what it meant. It's all my fault; 
I promised his dying mother to watch over him, to keep him from evil 
companions, and now it is too late, too late, (goes up stage.) 

Enter Rockingham /rom house, thrusting Baroni out 

Rock. Now, you scoundrel, there's Mr. Cecil; stand out and see if 
you can look him in the face. 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 13 

Bar. But you are so very violent, so very violent, your lordship. 

Rock. Silence ! See here, Bert— never heard of such a trick— con- 
found it, can't bring myself to say it. This hound dares to bring a 
charge against you. 

Bar. You have neglected to state that the charge is one of forgery. 

Bert. Forger h! {low, but wiUi intense feeling.) 

Rock, Out with your story. Tell it to his face, and then receive the 
punishment you deserve. 

Bar. That \h soon done, your lordship. I simply charge the Honor- 
able Bertie Cecil with negotiating one bill with my firm on \\\q fifteenth 
of the month. That bill was made out in his favor and accepted by 
you. Your signature you admitted was forged, and with that forgery I 
charge your friend. 

Bert. On the fifteenth! {intensely and low.) 

Rock. Heavens ! How can you stand there like that ? Why don't 
you speak ? 

Bert. I am not guilty. 

Rock. Why, of course you are not. 

Bar. We shall be pleased to find it so ; but where are your proofs ? 

Bert. I give you my word. 

Bar. Your word is the word of a gentleman. But we men of busi- 
ness must have proofs, my dear. 

Rock, {crosses R. 1 to Baroki.) 1''ou dog! If you use that tone again 
I'll strangle you. 

Bar. Pardon me, your lordship, but you are so very violent. Now 
this little piece of paper was presented at my office on the evening of 
the fifteenth, about half past seven o'clock, {to Bertie) Now, if you 
were not there, where were you ? 

Rock. Answered in a moment. 

Bert, {to Rockingham) On the fifteenth ? {aside) I was at Richmond 
with Lady Guenevere, and I have given her my word that no one shall 
know it. 

Rock. Y"es; were you at mess, the club, dressing for dinner, or where ? 

Bert, {slowly). I cannot tell. 

Bar. Just what I thought ; so under the circumstances we must place 
your good friend under arrest. 

Rock. Silence, you hound! {about to strike him.) 

Bar. Pardon me, your lordship, but we are wasting time. You must 
now be convinced of your friend's guilt. 

Rock. Convinced ? I'd sooner believe in my own disgrace. 

Bar. But how is it he is unable to tell where he was between the 
hours of five and nine on the evening of the fifteenth ? 

Rock. Unable? He is not unable; he simply declines. But I am 
the injured party. Here is a check ; till it out, and I will exchange it 
for the forged note, {hands check.) 

Bar. {refusing). What you ask is impossible. A crime like this can- 
not be hushed up with money, {to Bertie) Now, will you go with me 
quietly, or must we employ force ? 

Bert. I will go with you quietly. 

Rock. Stop. Where you go I follow. 

Bar. Excuse me, your lordship, but I rely on him to go with me 
quietlv. You see we can no longer consider him as the son of the 
Viscount Royallieu, but simply as an arrested forger. 

Rock. What! You hound 1 {about to strike him; Bertie stops hivi.) 

Bert. My friend, we degrade ourselves by resistance. Take the 
King— keep him for my sake. Now leave me ; it is my wish. 



14 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Rock. If it is your wish I will yield, {goes toward house.) 

Bert, [offering hand). Rockingham, will you take it still? 

Rock. Take it? Before all the world always, come what will. 
{shakes hand.) [Exit in house. 

Bert. Now, sir, I am ready, {hurried music; Bakoni beckons to 
Davis.) 

Enter Davis, r. 1 e. 

Bar. There is our man. Seize him ! 

Bert. What does this mean ? 

Bar. It means we cannot trust you: you might escape. 

Bert. I gave you my word to go with you quietly. You should have 
trusted me, I should have done so. But curse you, sooner than go to 
prison in sight of men, and in company ot two such villains as you, I'll 
light you to the death! {business of struggle. 

Enter Rake, r. u. e., who seizes Baroni. Bertie throws Davis, stands 

over him. 

Rake, saddle the brown mare at once ! And then a steeplechase for 
life! 

Fictu7'e. , 

curtain. 
LigJUs flashed at curtain. Curtain, quick. 



ACT n. 

SCENE. — A7icient street in Uh grooves. Prison in Zrd, boxed to rep- 
resent barracks. Guns stacked i?i street at back entrance. En- 
trance centre. Soldiers discovered, as curtain rises, drinking, 
laughing, singing, etc. 

Captain. Did 1 not say he would eat fire ? 

Petit Picpon. He rides like an Arab. 

Capt. Cuts off a head with that back circular sweep. Ah-h-h, mag- 
nificent! {all applaud.) 

Pierre Matou. And he smokes like a Zouave! {all laugh.) 

Capt. And he dances like an aristocrat, and not like a tipsy soldier. 
(all laugh.) 

Pic. When did he join ? 

Capt. Ten — twelve years ago, or thereabouts. He's an Englishman, 
I think. 

Pierre. Why? 

Capt. Because when he bathes he splashes like a water dog. {all 
laugh.) 

Pic, And when he rides, he rises in his stirrups. 

Capt. And he knows how to box, too. I wish he was in our corps 
instead of the Black Hawk's. 

Pic. The Black Hawk hates him, and he is kept down in consequence. 
Now, if he had been in our corps, he would have had the Cross by this 
time. 



tmOER TWO fLA-aS. 15 

Cigarette, {outside). Hello ! hello ! 

Capt. Who have we here ? 

CiG. {outside, ayid nearer). Hello! hello ! Picpon! 

Pic. {goes up, looks off c. l.). Cigarette! It's Cigarette! {riishes off 
calling tigdSQilQ \ Cigarette! Best of soldiers follow, calling same. 
Big noise^iu entrance, ivoi'king up Cigarette's entrance.) 

CiG. {outside). Whoa ! Stand still, jo\i brute, what's the matter with 
you; lay hold of my horse there, {sounds of laughter; slappiyig; sol- 
diers back on, taking slaps, r. andh., laughing.) 

Enter CiQARETTE, c, soldiers separate, leaving her. in view of audience 

CiG. {letters, paper. <i, etc., in hand). Why, what children you are ; 
you push and scramble and tear like a set of monkeys after a nut. 
Keep away from me, every one of you, or you shall not have go much 
as a letter. 

Pic. (r.). Well, if you hadn't had a letter in six months you'd scram- 
ble, too. 

CiG. Me ? Ha, ha ! I never received a letter in my life. Attention ! 
{all salute) To the front all of you as I call you. Leon Ramon ! {a sol- 
dier comes forward and salutes) Here is a letter from your mother. 
If she knew you as well as I do she would not care whether you were 
dead or alive, {f/ives letter; all laugh) Pierre Matou! {comes forward 
and salutes) Some papers from Paris; quite new, only nine months 
old. {gives papers; all laugh) Le Captaine ! {he comes forward and 
salutes) A woman has sent you a love scrawl and some tobacco. Ah ! 
she knew that uU your passions end in smoke ! {all laugh; he takes 
package and letters and goes to r. 1, near table) Picpon I {comes for- 
ward and salutes) Here is some money. It has not been stolen, so it 
has lost all spice for you. {all laugh as he retires r.) Captain, {goes 
towards him, holding out paj^ers, etc.) here are your papers, letters 
and commissions, {giving papers, etc.) So now that is all. 

Capt. {standing in front of her). You have done well. Come, give 
me a kiss, {she slaps Captain's /«ce; all laugh.) 

CiG. {sitting on table). Oh, I don't like bad wine after good. I've just 
come from Corporal Victor. 

Capt. (holding face). Sacre! Your heart gone out to that English- 
man? 

CiG. Oh, he's not an Englishman. 

Pic. How do you know ? 

CiG. Oh, because he does not eat raw meat, {all laugh) and then 
there is no fog in him. {all laugh) But here he comes, (Bertie appears 
at back) he can speak for himself. Ah, mon corporal, le captaine says 
that you are English — by my faith I believe him. Have some wine ? 
{offers cup with wine from table) You need not fear it, I never sell bad 
liquors. 

Bertie. You do me much honor, ma belle ; {boiving) much honor. 

CiG. In what country did you learn such line manners ? 

Bert. Where should one learn courtesy if not in France ? 

CiG. They say that you are English. I do not believe them. A 
Spaniard, eh? 

Bert. Do you find me so devout a Catholic that you think so ? 

Capt. A Greek? 

Bert. Still worse; have you ever seen me cheat at cards? 

Pic. An Austrian, then? You waltz like a white coat. 

Bert. No. 



16 UNDER 'TWO i'LAGfil. 

CiG. What are you, then ? 

Bert. A soldier of France ! {uncovers ; all salute) Can yoii wish ine 
more? 

CiG. True, mon brave, but you were not always a soldier of France. 
What were you before? 

Bert, {all liste^i eagerly). Before ? Well — a fool ! {all laugh.) 

CiG. Oh, well, you belonged to the majority then. Is that cigarette 
a good one you are smoking ? 

Bert. Yes, fair. 

CiG. Give me one. {he gives her cigarette ; business of lighting it) D» 
women smoke in your country ? 

Bert. Oh, yes, some of them. 

CiG. Where is it, then ? 

Bert. I have no country — now. 

CiG. Did you leave anything there you cared for ? 

Bert. Yes. 

CiG. What was it; a woman ? 

Bert. No; a horse, {all laugh.^ 

CiG. {jumps off table). Your cigarette is good, which is more than I 
can say of your company. 

Capt. She's very pretty ; is she not ? 

Bert. Yes, too pretty to be unsexed by such a life as this. 

CiQ. Unsexed! Take care ! If you have a woman's face why may 
not I have a man's soul ? [Exit, l. 3 e., w anger. 

Capt. {seated at table with Victor). A regular little spitfire ; but she 
loves the tri-color better than her life, {looks at chessmen) But do you 
carve these pretty ivories ? 

Bert. Yes; I do this in my leisure moments. 

Capt. They are worth an Arab's ransom. But, corporal, we were 
talking of the accidents of fortune that sent us all into the ranks. 
Now there is Mademoiselle Cora in Paris sends us more men than the 
conscription. The War Minister should give her the Cross, {laughs) 
Come, now, you fell with the rest; did not a woman send you here? 

Brrt. No; only chance. 

Capt. Oh, a fig for chance. We are all quoting our tempters to-night. 
Come, give us your history. 

Bert. You bave it as well as my sword can write it. 

Capt. Good ! And your sword writes in a brave man's fashion. 
Writes what France loves to read. But before you wore the sword 
were you in love, a gamester, or what ? 

Bert, {starting to feet). Monsieur ! {salutes) Direct obedience is a sol- 
dier's dull/, I never was taught that inquisitive arrogance was an offi- 
cer's privilege. 

Capt. {rising). A right rebuke, {salutes) fairly given and well de- 
served. I thank you for the lesson, {shakes hand and crosses to l. 1 e. 
Aside) I'd give a year's pay to know that fine fellow's history. 

[Exit, L. 1 E. 

Enter Black Hawk and Lady Venetia, c. from r. 

Black Hawk. So, my lady, you like Algiers. It is historic certainly, 
and offers many attractions for strangers. 

Ven. There is much to admire, and much more to excite our wonder. 
Everything is so interesting— even these soldiers of yours are a study. 

B. H. Yes, but they are a worthless lot; look at them now. {come 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 17 

down c. To soldiers) Fine work this, {all start and salute) You shall 
pay for it in the guard house. Ofl' to your quarters, all of you ! 

{All exit, R. 3 E. in door. 

Bert, [crosses to l. 1 e. ; salutes). M. le Colonel, the fault was mine. 

B. H. Whenever there is insubordination in the regiment the "blame 
is certain to be yours. And if you allow your men to turn the barracks 
into a riot or a county fair, you'll tind yourself degraded from the rank 
you contrive to disgrace, {sees chessmen) Where did you get those 
chessmen ? 

Bert. I made them. 

Ven. {hack of table; Cigarette listens at hack). What wonderful 
skill ! Would you sell them ? 

Bert. They are at your service, madame. 

Ven. {comes down stage, r. 1 e.). And the price ? 

Bert. Is the honor of your acceptance, {bowing) if you will deign to 
grant me that. (Cigarette sits on table up stage, l.) 

Ven. Thank you; your clever work, of course, can only become mine 
by purchase, {exd Cigarette, l. u. e.) Come, colonel, shall we step in 
here? we may tind something that will interest me. (Black Hawk 
passes her to door, r.) [Exit Venetia, r. 

B. H. Corporai, (Bertie salutes) my lady will look at your toys again ; 
leave them here until we return. (Bertie salutes.) 

[Exit Black Hawk after Venetia. 

Enter Cigarette, l. ; gets on table. 

Bert, {crosses up stage and looks after them; then ci^osses down to 
R. 1, near table). How beautiful she is ! Ah ! {sighs) Ah, why must I 
forget I ever had the right to bear the title of gentleman, {musingly) 
What is there in her face that recalls something of my old life. I won- 
der if the Black Hawk loves her. I wonder if I shall never teach him 
that he may some day go too far. 

Cig. {on table, laughing). We are soldiers, not traders; aren't we? 
You are no peddler, eh ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! Of what are you thinking ? 
That you would rather be called out, courtmarshalled and shot than 
have your toys inspected by the Black Hawk. That is what you are 
thinking, eh ? 

Bert. Well, why not? I grant his right in field and barracks, but— 

Cig. Oh, 6?/;! is a blank cartridge, and never did anything but miss fire 
yet. Shoot dead or don't aim at all. So you won't obey Chateauroy 
in this ? "I will show my blood if I die for it." That is what you are 
thinking; are you not? 

Bert. Something almost as foolish, perhaps. You're a witch, little 
one; a witch. 

Cig. a witch ! Ha, ha, ha ! Who ever doubted it but you ? Oh, j'es, 
I can put two and two together, and read men's thoughts, although I 
can't read the ali)habet. But listen to me; one example set on your 
part and these soldiers will mutiny. What will happen then ? 

Bert. You are a soldier; tell me. 

Cig. {jumping down from fable and coming don-n stage). Yes, I am 
a soldier, and I have seen war. I have seen soldiers mutiny; seen 
them walled in and shot down by thousands. You will not let me see 
this again ? {holding out hand to him.) 

Bkrt. {takes her hand and shakes it warmly). No; I give you my 
word. 

Cig. You are a true soldier, {waltzes up stage; sees Venetia off 



18 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Stage, r.) Oh, here comes my lady. How she sweeps— sweeps, (mock- 
ivg her) like a silver pheasant; so languid, so brilliant, so useless. Bah ! 
She would faint at the mere sight of this, {takes instol out of belt; 
waltzes up stage to table, l. ; leans on it; listens.) 

Enter Black Hawk and Yenetia, b. 3 e. 

B. H. My lady, you desire to see those toys again. Corporal ! 

Bert. M. le Colonel, {salutes at l. 1 e.) 

Ven. {at table). You were a sculptor once ? 

Bert. Never, madam e. 

Ven. Indeed ; why, who taught you such wonderful skill ? 

Bert. A common teacher, madame — necessity. 

B. H. Victor knows that neither he nor his men have any right to 
waste their time on such trash. But the truth is, my lady, they love 
their canteen so well they will do anything for money with v/hich to 
purchase brandy. 

Ven. Colonel, I don't think that man carves for brandy. Surely you 
encourage such pursuits ? {points to toys.) 

B. H. Not I. There are but two arts or virtues for a trooper to my 
taste — fighting and obedience ; but since you admire the trifles, do me 
the honor to keep them. 

Ven. No; I ofiered to purchase them, but he refuses to name his 
price. 

B. H. The man is the most insolent Chasseur in the service, {to Ber- 
tie) Go, and leave your toys here, or I'll have them broken by the 
hammer ! 

Ven. You misunderstand me. I lay no blame on your corporal. 
Let him keep his chessmen ; his desire not to part with them shows him 
to be a true artist, as doubtless also he is a good soldier. 

Bert, {takes off cap; bows). Thank you, my lady; keep them, if you 
will so far honor me. {bows.) [Exit, l 1 e. 

B. H. {follows down stage, looking after him). Have no scruples in 
accepting them, my lady; I'll see that he loses nothing by parting with 
his pretty playthings. 

Ven. Of what country is your corporal ? 

Ven. I haven't an idea. His past must have been very black in- 
deed, for he never lets the slightest trace of it escape from his lips. He 
encourages the men in every insubordination, and ought to have been 
shot long ago. 

Ven. {aside). I wonder he has not been, since you have the ruling of 
his fate, {aloud) How has he offended you ? 

Cro. {jumping down c). By being too good a soldier, my lady ! He 
is the finest in all Africa. Why, he is covered with wounds from Bedouin 
steel— he rode twenty miles to deliver a dispatch, with a spear head in 
his side— he saved the day at Zaraila, and in reward {sneeringly) he 
has been made a corporal ! Ha, ha, ha! {goef^ up stage.) 

B. H. {aside). Damnation ! I'll find a way to remove this corporal. 
(aloud) My lady, I trust that you will pay no attention to these troop- 
ers of mine ; (70 m(7 r/;;? "^ovmy'd? c.) they are a worthless lot. Shalll 
escort you back to your hotel ? 

Ven. Yes, I am tired, {going up) I am not much versed in mili- 
tary affairs, but, pardon me for saying so, I imagine that you do your 
corporal an injustice, {to Cigarette) Here, my little soldier, is a rose- 
bud for you. {gives flower to Cigarette.) 

{Exit Venetia and Black Hawk, r. c. 



tTNDER TWO FLAGS. 19 

CiG. {looking at flower). Ha, ha, ha ! A rosebud for me ! Bah ! 
{throws flower offstage after Venetia) I know no rose but the red of 
the tri-color, and I would accept nothing from her; and he— he gave 
her his beautiful carvings when he would not so much as look at'me. 
Bah ! I have no patience with such a man. Why should I care whom 
he loves ? Why, if 1 but say the word my soldiers would lay him dead 
at my feet! {soldiers' chorus outside) Why don't I do it; why don't I do 
it ? [Exit, L. 1 E. 

Enter Rake, c. d. 

Rake. I've been having a bit of diversion among the wine shops, and 
while on me way back a gentleman gave me this English paper and 
said maybe I'd like to read the news. How did he expect a Frinchmau 
like me to rade English ? {up star/e) Well, look at that now; it lays me 
out, as the corpse says to the undertaker. Why, if it isn't as neat a bit 
of calico coming this way as I've seen for mony a day. I'll just give 
her a taste of my style. 

Enter Nora, c. 

Nora. I say, are you a Frinchman ? 

Rake. Divil a bit, save the uniform on me back. 

Nora. Do you know a place called Ireland ? 

Rake. Bedad an' I do. Shure it's your own swate lips has kissed 
the Blarney stone. 

Nora. Can you show me the way to Hotel Royal ? 

Rake. Ah, sure, me angel, ifs mesilf can do the same. But perhaps 
yer can tell me what yer doing here, and what's yer name ? 

Nora. My name is Nora McShane. I'm the Princess Corona's maid. 
We are travelling over this world in a big ship. I was out this morning 
and got lost. But can you tell me who you are ? 

Rake. Me ? Shure I'm a soldier in the Frinch army. But I say, 
Nora, me dear, I've never heard divil a bit of an Irish song this many 
a day, and it's your own swate self can sing me the same. 

Nora, {sings song; or she and Rake do Irish siwcialty or duet). Now 
show me the way. {goes up c.) 

Rake. That I will. You see that church beyant there ? Well, you 
go as fast as you can to the corner, then you turn the church around 
and you see an old Jew with a face on him like a comic valentine, and 
shure when you're there you're at the hotel itself. 

Nora. Thank you, sir. 

Rake. Look straight before you, {takes her hand) and take this with 
yer to show yer the way. {kisses her; exit Nora, c.) So there's a big ship 
in the harbor; well, the divil knows who's prowling around the streets. 

Enter Bertie, c. d. 

Ah, Mr. Cecil, I was looking for you. 

Bert. Hush ! Some one may hear yon. 

Rake. Divil a wan is here but the walls, and it's never an ear they 
have, {gives him paper.) 

Bert, {looks at paper). Where did you get this paper, Rake ? 

Rake. An English gentleman gave it to me; there's a fine party visit- 
ing the city. But what's the matter ? you're as pale as a ghost. 

Bert. {read^). " Died at Royallleu Castle, on the 27th, the Right 
Honorable Viscount Royallieu, aged ninety." Dead— dead ! 

Rake. The old master dead! And now, Mr. Cecil, you'll go back to 
England, for you are the rightful heir to the title. 



20 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Bert. No, Rake, I lay no claim to anything save the death an Arab 
spear will some day give me. 

Hake. Don't say that, or you'll have me weeping like a widdy on a 
rent day. (looks off r.) Whist I Here comes the Black Hawk. I'll slit 
his throat for him some day, if I hang for it! [E.cit, l. 1 e. 

Bert. Rake ! 

Enter Black Hawk, c. d. 

B. H. Halt ! (Bertie sctlufes) So you are here, are you ? I've not for- 
gotten your insolence in regard to those ivory toys, nor shall it go un- 
punished. My lady will not allow you to remain unpaid, so I have 
taken it upon myself to reward you. You deserve the lash ; come here ! 
(Bertie advances) Hold out your hand, {he does so; Black Hawk draws 
sword half way, as if to strike; then gives him coins) What do you say 
to that ? 

Bert. I say that there are many losses a soldier regrets, but there is 
not one so bitter as the loss of the right to resent ! {bugle call outside.) 

Enter Picpon, c. 

Pic. M. le Colonel, they have taken the woman ! 

B. H. What woman ? 

Pic. The Arab chief's wife. She had wandered too far from the 
camp and was taken by some of our men who were sweeping the desert 
for food. 

B. H. Bring her before me. {exit Picpon, c.) By my soul, now we 
have the Arab's heart. 

Enter Picpon and soldier with Djblma; Djelma kneels to Bertie, then 

to Black Hawk, who pushes her l.) 
By my sword, but she is beautiful ! Here, Victor, what do you think of 
this fair captive? 

Bert. It is not my place to give opinions, M. le Colonel. 

B. H. It is, when / bid you— speak, or I'll have the words cut from 
you — speak ! 

Bert. Would you have me speak plainly ? 

B. H. Ten thousand curses— yes ! 

Bert. Then I think that the man who makes war on woman is no 
longer tit to tight with men. 

Enter Cigarette, c. ; stands up c. 

B. H. By heavens! {starts for him, draniing sword, c.) I've a mind 
to have you shot like a dog; but no, I'll send you to the Arab chief; he 
ofttimes spares me the trouble of killing my own ctirs. Take a flag of 
truce and this message. If he makes a sign of attack this fair creature's 
life shall pay the penalty; if he remains in arms she shall become my 
mistress ; if he lays down his arms she shall be restored. You hear ? 

Bert. I hear. 

B. H. Obey, then ! 

Bert. I have no choice. I will carry your cowardly message to the 
Desert Chief, and before the sun has set you shall have your answer 
though fifty Arab spears be buried in my breast. (Black Hawk starts 
for Bertie, drawing sword; is stopped hy Cigarette.) 

CiG. {holding papers in front of him). Dispatches from Algiers! 

Sentinel. Sentinel. 

Bertie, Cigarette. Black Hawk. Djelma. 

Curtain. 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 21 



ACT m. 

SCENE. — Drawing-room of hotel; table at r., witJi chessmen ; c. d. in 
3; garden backing ; lights down. Discover Rake on guard back 
of c. D. 

Rake. Shure it's mighty tired I am chasing meself up and down by 
this door. Divil a bit of use of a guard here, but it's the Black Hawk's 
orders. Shure it's mighty anxious he seems about me lady, {noise out- 
side) Whist! Some one's coming, {walks u}! and down by c. d.) 

Enter Nora, r. 1 e. 

Nora. "Well, here I am caged up like a prisoner of war, and all yer 
hear is the tramping and marching of the soldiers, (.sees Rake) Oh, 
shure it's you; well you're looking -mighty tine, Mr. Rake. 

Rake. That's been said before to-day, but never by such swate lips. 

Nora. I say, Mr. Rake, won't you come in ? 

Rake. Come in, is it ? Ye blessed bunch of shamrocks, can't yer see 
I'm on duty ? 

Nora. On duty, is it; and where's your post? 

Rake. Will you listen to that ! It's the road to the moon you'll be 
axiu' me next. 

Nora. Shure it's no more I'll be axin' yer. 

Rake, {drops gun). Yer won't? 

Nora. No, I won't, so you can kape on with yer walking. 

Rake. Bedad, it's small wonder Adam fell out of the apple tree with 
a woman teasing him. 

Nora. I say, Mr. Rake, you'd better be guarding your post more 
carefully or you'll get shot. 

Rake. True, me darling, it's shot I am already with cupid's arrow. 
I'd face a whole battery for a look of them purty eyes. 

Nora. Mr. Rake, I never thouuht there was so much mischief in yer. 

Rake. Mischief ! Shure it's bottled up in me like ale, and if I don't 
let the stopper out soon I'll bust to pieces, {tries to kiss her.) 

Ven. {outside). Nora! Nora! 

Nora. I hear somebody. 

Rake. And I feel somebody, {takes gun and walks up and down c. D. 
for a whilp, then goes off stage.) 

Nora. It's me lady. 

Enter Yenetia, r. 1 e. 

Ven. What noise was that, Nora ? 

Nora. It must have been the sentry, outside. 

Rake. Begorra, that's true for her. {looking in c. D.) 

Ven. Has my brother arrived ? 

Nora. No, me lady. 

Ven. Let me know when he ari^ves. {exit Nora, r. 1 e. ; Venetia 
goef^ up to c. d., then dovw to tahle„n.) I cannot keep that soldier from 
my thoughts. He must have led a very diflerent life somewhere. I 
should like to serve him if I could, {sits r.) But how can one serve a 
man whose only desire is to be forgotten. 

Enter Rockingham and Berkeley, c. d. 



22 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Rock. Ah, Venetia, still up ? I've been searching for your soldier 
friend, but as yet we have not succeeded in finding him. 

Berk. (l.). He is a tine soldier, but, according to the colonel, is only 
a clever scoundrel, and the Army of Africa after all is the best place for 
him. 

Rock. There's a queer little creature in camp — Cigarette they call 
her. I fancy she's in love with him. 

Ven. In love with him ? How did you find that out ? 

Rock. It is the gossip of the camp; and then she stood up so loyally 
for him to-day, after his return from the Arab camp. Nothing but a 
miracle saved him from being cut to pieces. What spell he used to 
compel the Black Hawk to give up his captive nobody knows. 

Berk. And this Cigarette — she is quite a soldier. She was presented 
to-day with the Cross of the Legion of Honor for her bravery at the 
battle of Zaraila. 

Rock. I shall never forget when the grand marshal called her before 
the squadron and presented it to her. She exclaimed: " This is not for 
me I Who saved the day at Zaraila ? Not I, but a soldier of Africa, 
who, when all his officers were cut down before him, rallied his men all 
day in the scorching sun. I tell you the cross is not mine." (Venetia 
starts) What is the matter, Venetia; has the day been too warm, or the 
evening too cool ? (BERKr':LEY r/oes up c.) 

Ven, Perhaps both. When do we start for England? 

Rock. In a day or two, but I shall make one more attempt to find 
this man before we leave. 

Ven. No, Philip, do not seek to find this man. 

Rock, But it was your request, 

Ven. Think me changeable, if you will, but do not notice a soldier of 
Africa at my instance. 

Rock. Pardon me, but my curiosity is aroused, and I shall make one 
more attempt to find this soldier before I start for England. 

[Exit, L. 1 E. 

Berk, (comes down r.). My lady, you heard what your brother said, 
and I trust you will pardon me when 1 ask why you show so much in- 
terest in a man of whose history you know nothing ? 

Ven. You are right. Why should I interest myself in his behalf? 
I thought he was above his station, and I would mention his name to 
the grand marshal on our return to Paris, 

Berk. My lady, it is your brother's intention to return to England in 
a few days. I trust that you will pardon me if I again renew my suit. 
AVhen we were in England you gave me no hope, but I trust that time 
and circumstances have caused you to change your mind. You know 
how devotedly I love you, and the happiest moment of my existence 
will be when you consent to become my wife. 

Ven. {i-Lses and crosses to l,). Lord Eoyalheu, I gave you my an- 
swer in England; Africa is not likely to change my opinion. As my 
brother's friend I respect you; do not ask for mov^—lovel have none 
to give. [Exit, L. 1 E. 

Berk, {looks after her). As I expected— proud, hard and cold. I can 
never teach her to look upon me save as her brother's friend, {crosses 
to R.) And this soldier; who can he be to awake such interest in her? 
For that reason alone I would gladly chan.i2:e places with him. I will 
go to the camp, 1 will not rest until I find this man; I must know who 
and what he is. {turns to go, c. d.) 

Enter Bektik c, d., and meets him^ 

L.tfC. 



UNDEE TWO FLAGS. 23 

Berk, (starts back). You — you — 1 thought you dead ! 

Bert. To you I am dead. 

Berk, My brother a common soldier ! How have you lived ? 

Bert. Honorably— let that sutfice; and you ? 

Berk. In honor, too, I swear it ! That was my first, my last disgrace. 
I believed the story of your death. Had I known you lived I would have 
said you were innocent, but when they told me you were killed I did 
not think it worth while ; besides, it would have broken our father's 
heart. Oh God ! I was a coward. 

Bert. Yes, you were a coward; therein lay the story of your fall. 

Berk. I am in your power — I stand in your place. All I possess be- 
longs to you— our father is dead. Do you know this, since you hav^ 
never claimed the inheritance ? 

Bert. I know it. 

Berk. And you have never come forward to claim your rights. 

Bert. What I did not do to clear my own honor I was not likely tc 
do merely to bear a title. 

Berk. But this life of yours ! Great heavens, it must be misery ! 

Bert. Perhaps. It has at least no disgrace in it. 

Berk. No, no ! You are happier than I— you have no remorse to 
bear ! And yet — to tell the world that I am guilty ! 

Bert. You need never tell it; I shall not. 

Berk. You will not ? 

Bert. No. Do not fear me. I have kept your secret for twelve 
years; I will keep it still. All I ask is that you so live that in the fu- 
ture your past shall be redeemed. 

Berk. And you ? 

Bert. I shall lead the life fittest for me. 

Berk. And that is ?— 

Bert. That of a soldier of France. Come, let us part now and for- 
ever. (Berkeley goes to him ; they shake hands) Leave Algiers— that 
is all 1 ask. 

Berk, [up stage, c). But you, are you content? 

Bert. Say no more, but leave me — leave me. {exit, Berkeley, c. d.) 
Content— content. It is better so, and yet had I my birthright I could 
stand before this woman as her equal. 

Enter Venetia, r. 1 E. 

Ah, my lady, I have found your chain, though broken, I regret to say. 

Ven. I must have lost it while riding yesterday. I am greatly in 
deb ted to you for taking care of it. You have been in terrible scene!* 
since last I saw you. Your visit to the Arab camp and the story ot 
Zaraila have reached us. You cannot refuse now to let me place youi 
name before the grand marshal. 

Bert. You do me much honor; but if you would serve me, do noth 
ing of the kind. 

Ven. And why ? Do you not desire the cross? 

Bert. I desire nothing, madame. 

Ven. Strange man ! Have you no ambition ? 

Bert. If I had it is not a pair of epaulets that would content it. 

Ven. {who has been looking at purse he gave her). How did you ob 
tain this ? 

Bert, The chain, madame ? It had fallen in the water. 

Ven. The chain ! No ! The purse ! 

Bert. That was given me many years ago. 



24 XJNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Ven. By whom ? 

Bert. By a cliild, madame. 

Ven. That purse was mine. I gave it ! And you — you are my 
brother's dearest friend, Bertie Cecil. 

Bert. And you are little VeneLia. Oh how could I have been so 
blind ! 

Ven. We thou<2:ht you dead. Why have you lived like this ? It was 
cruel to my brotlier. Child though I was, I remember his grief when 
the news came that you had lost your life. He is here — I will send for 
him. (starts to riyig bell on table.) 

Bert. No, no ; do nothing of the kind, I beg of you. 

Ven. What do you fear from Philip ? 

Bert. Yesterday when I met him in the camp I hid my face and fled 
from him as one would from famine and pestilence. 

Ven. You lied from Philip ? Ah, you must wrong him. What will 
it matter to him whether you wear a peer's robe or a soldier's uniform, 
whether you be a prince or a trooper ? 

Bert. Do you not know— has no one ever told you ? 

Ven. What? 

Bert. That when I left England the stain of crime was upon me. 

Ven. Crime— what crime ? 

Bkrt. 1 was accused of having forged your brother's name. 

Ven. But you were not guilty, I know. The man my brother hon- 
ored with his friendship could never stoop to the level of a fraud. 

Bkrt. I ?t'«s guiltless; but no one could credit it then, and no one 
would do so now; nor can I seek to make them. Ask me no more, 
only give me your belief if you can, and tell no living creature what I 
have told you now. All I can ask is to be foigotten. 

Ven. You ask what is not mine to give. I knew you so well in my 
childhood. It will not be possible to lorgetsuch a meeting as this. Do 
you know that your father is dead, and so long as you live your brother 
cannot hold the title lawfully ? 

Voice (outside). Halt! 

Bert, (stni-ls). Some one is coming. 

Ven. It is Philip; he is returning from the camp. 

Bert. I camiot see him ; I dare not face him. Promise me you will 
never tell your brother who I am. 

Ven. I promise until you release me. 

Bkrt. Thank you. You were an angel of pity to me in your child- 
hood; in your womanhood you have given me the only mercy I have 
known since last I looked upon your face. [Exit, l. 1 e. 

Ven. Poor fellow ! How bitter his life must be. (sits at table) And 
he is proud still; prouder than he knows, (turns up lamp ; takes book.) 

Enter Cigarette, o. d., cautiously. 

Cto. So this is the nest of the silver pheasant; and there she sits. I 
wonder what she is like, if she is flesh and blood as I am ? If she is I'll 
show her how a child of the people can laugh at her rank. ( places hand 
on pistol in belt) Why don't I kill her ? I will before I leave, (ci^osses 
doirii stage toirards l. 1 e.) 

Vf;n. (starts ; lays doioi book). Oh, is it you ? You wish to see me ? 
Come nearer — have no fear. 

Cia. (laur/l/s scor)>fully)). Fear? What! I fear yon! You silver 
pheasant, who never did anything in your life but spread your dainty 
colors in the sun 1 What ! I fear you ? I could kill you, and I will ! 



UNDEE TWO FLAGS. 25 

{takes pistol from belt, points it at Venetia, who stands a moment 
looking intently at her, and then quietly takes x)istol from her and 
places it on table, r.) 

Ven. Child, are you mad ? Brave natures never stoop to assassina- 
tion. Why do you wish to injure me ? 

CiG. Because I hate you. I came here to-night for two purposes; 
the one to look closely at you, the other to hurt you, wound you, if I 
could; but you won't let me — oh, I don't know what is in you ! 

Ven. It is rather something m yourself— something that will not al- 
low you to be unjust, my poor child. 

CiG. Don't poor child me, or I'll show you a touch of my insolence. 
You may be a grand dame everywhere else, but your rank carries no 
terror for me. 

Ven. 1 do not seek to have it. If I did not feel an interest in you do 
you think I would suffer for an instant the ignorant rudeness of an ill- 
bred child ? 

CiG. {^angrily). Ill-bred ! Ill-bred child ! {changing suddenly) Ah, 
you are right, {taking cross from her neck and throwing it on floor) I 
disgrace my cross the very tirst day I wear it. You are as beautiful as 
a sorceress. I do not wonder that he loves you. 

Ven. He? Who? 

CiG. The man who was made to bring his toys here to you, like a 
common hawker. 

Ven. I do not believe he made you his confidante, 

CiG. No; not he. He belongs to your class. You could kill him be- 
fore he would speak. I only know what I have seen. 

Ven. You are right when you say he is of my class. The gentleman, 
for he is a gentleman, by a strange chain of circumstances is connected 
with my family. He once was a great friend of my brother's. I fancy 
you would do him a favor if you could. 

CiG. Well, we are soldiers, and soldiers always help each other. 
What do you want me to do ? 

Ven. Take a message to him from me, and say nothing of what I 
have told you. 

CiG. Do you take me for a raw recruit who babbles over his first 
measure of wine ? What is your message ? 

Ven. He and my brother must not meet. Tell him that my brother, 
knowing him as Louis Victor, will seek him out at the camp. Tell him 
to avoid the meeting as best he can. 

CiG. You know little of the camp or you would send no such mes- 
sage. Why, if he is not there when his officers call him he would be 
Bhot like a dog. 

Ven. True ! I had forgotten. Well, go and send him to me. My 
brother must be taken into his confidence. You will do this, as you are 
his friend ? 

CiG. If I be I do not see why I am to turn your lackey. Go find 
some other messenger. 

Ven. I thought you were his friend, and that you would aid me to 
assist him. I see I was mistaken, so we will let the matter drop, {turns 
away.) 

CiG. Forgive me, my lady, {kneels, kisses her hand ; picks up cross, 
rises) You are right; I am his friend. I will go. Ah, my lady, I do 
not wonder that men love you, when even I cannot hate you. 

[Exit, c. D. 

Ven. a little tigress with a heart of gold and as true as steel. How 
she loves him ! And she is so brave she will not show it. 



26 UNDEB TWO FLAGS. 



Enter Black Hawk, c. d. 

B. H. Ah, my lady, I did not expect to find you here. You leave for 
England in a few days your brother informs me. 

Ven. That is his intention I believe. 

B. H. And at his request I have brought you passports, which he de- 
sired me to procure for him. {takes them from belt ; crosses back to 
table and places them there ; sees chessme)i) Ah, I see you still retain 
my corporal's ivory toys, (examines them) On my word, they are tine; 
I wish I could say as much for the man; he is the most insolent in the 
regiment. Men should keep their grades, and privates who think them- 
selves gentlemen should receive the lash they merit. 

Ven. (aside). How he hates that man. (aloud) Don't you think you 
are a little severe upon your corporal ? 

B. H. No. I know Ihem all. They know how to produce an effect 
in a lady's presence as they know how to tight and swear out of it. 

Ven. Possibly; but if your corporal is not a gentleman I never saw 
one. [Exit, r. 1 e. 

B. H. (bows). Damn that corporal ! Am I never to hear the last of 
him ? I hate him, and where the Black Hawk hates he strikes. 

[Exit, L. 1 B. 
E7iier Cigarette and Bertie, c. d. 

CiG. You are wanted. 
Bert. Wanted for what ? 

CiG. How should I know ? You are wanted by the Silver Pheasant. 
Put on your palace manners. Send her in your card. (Bertie goes 
down L. ; Cigarette turns and goes up stage to c. d. ; aside) I have sent 
him to her when I should have put a bullet through her heart. 

[Exit, c. D. 
Enter Venetia, r. 1 e. 

Ven. I see the little soldier has kept her word. I sent for you to ask 
you to retract your words and allow me to tell my brother what I know. 

Bert. No, no; ask anything of me but that; but do not ask that, I 
beg of you. 

Ven. And why; do you mistrust him ? 

Bert. No, it is not that. It is because I trust him too well to give 
him pain. Do you suppose that if I could speak 1 would not tell you 
all? 

Ven. Whoever was the criminal should suffer. Why not speak the 
words that would place you before the world an innocent man? 

Bert. You shall answer for me— be my law — my judge. 

Ven. The woman does not live who should be that to any man. 

Bert. You shall be that to me, for I love you. 

Ven. This is madness. What have you seen of me ? What do you 
know of me ? 

Bert. Enough to love you while my life shall last. In your eyes I 
was but an African trooper, in my own I was your equal. Now you 
know all— know the worst that tempts me. No famine, no humiliation 
ever so tempted me to buy back my birthright as this one desire to 
stand in my rightful place before men, and to strive for that which they 
have not won. 

Ven. Lord Royallieu, keep your secret from the world if you will, 
prove your innocence only to me. I care not what the world thinks of 
you or says of me. I will be your wife. 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 27 

Bert. Venetia ! (embrace) This one moment of happiness is worth 
all the misery I have endured ! 

Ven. I must leave you now. We start for England to-morrow, (goes 
toward r. 1 e.) In one month expect your release— till then farewell. 

Bert, (goes to her and kisses her hand). Farewell. 

[Exit Venetia, r. 1 e. 

Enter Black Hawk, l. 1 e., sees Victor kiss Venetia's hand. 

B. H. What are you doing here ? Why have you left your squadron ? 
Have you no tongue ? Speak, or I'll have the words cut from you — 
speak ! 

Bert. I will not tell. 

B. H. By heavens, I'll have you thrashed like a dog for that answer. 
But I know as well as if you had told me why you came here. So my 
lady chooses her lovers from amongst my blackguards. But your 
silence cannot shield her from the shame of her midnight intrigues. 

Bert, (strikes Black Hawk; he falls c). You lie! and you know 
that you lie ! 

Quick Curtain. Lights flashed. 



ACT IV. 



SCENE. — Dark wood scene an hour before daylight; wood wings with 
set prison at l. 2 e. Lights down. Discover guard pacing in 
front of L. 2 e. As curtain rises the voices of six sentries outside 
repeat one after the other, "-Five o'clock and all is well" 

Enter Corporal, r. u. e. 

Corp. Halt! 

Guard. Who goes there ? 

Corp. Corporal of the guard with relief. 

Guard. Advance and give the countersign! (Corporal advaneesy 
gives word, crosses gun, turns r.) Word is correct. 

Corp. Advance, relief! {a soldier comes down c, turns l., goes to 
Guard and crosses gun same as Corporal.) 

Guard. You are instructed to guard the prisoner. Let no one see 
him without written permission from the colonel in command. Obey 
the orders of the day and the laws of your country, (crosses to c, turn^ 
B., goes zip and falls in line with other soldiers.) 

Corp. March ! (follows the others off, l. u. e.) 

Enter Cigarette, r. u. e. 

Cia. I brought him to her when I should have sent a bullet through 
her heart. Bah ! Why should I care whom he loves ? I have my flag, 
my cross (kisses cross) and my army — what more do I desire? (turns; 
sees Guard) Hello ! Who are you guarding so carefully ? 

Guard. Corporal Victor, little one. 

Cia. Corporal Victor ? 



28 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Guard. Yes ; where have you been that you have uot heard of the 
trial ? 

CiG. I have been away for two days. 

Guard. 'Twas bad work— bad work. He struck the Black Hawk, 
It was a light blow, but with threat to kill following it. He has been 
tried and is to be shot at sunrise. 

CiG. Shot? When did this happen ? 

Guard. Ni^ht before last. 

CiG. (aftide). Night before last! The blow was struck for her. It 
was that night, {pnfs hand to heart.) 

Guard. What's the matter, little one ? You look strangely. Do you 
love this soldier? 

CiG. Love him ! (laughs) What— I love him ? I hate him. (crosses 
to L. 1 E.) I have looked for vengeance, and it has come. 

Enter Venetia, r. 1 e. 

Ven. (to Cigarette). Is it true that he is to be shot at sunrise ? 
You have some power here— tell me, can nothmg be done to save him ? 

CiG. He has struck his chief; for that there is "no reprieve. 

Ven. If he dies it is I who have killed him. That blow was struck 
for me. 

CiG. Ay, you are right; the blow was struck for you. You say he is 
of your order— tell me his name and rank. 

Ven. Yes ! yes ! 

CiG. Write it out, I do not understand your English names. 

Ven. (takes out book and writes). There, child, and if you have any 
power save him if you can. 

CiG. Read what you have written. 

Ven. (reads). "I aflirm that the person serving in your army under 
the name of Louis Victor, is Bertie Cecil, lawfully the Viscount Royal- 
lieu, peer of England. Signed, Lady Venetia Corona." There, child; 
what is it you will do ? 

CiG. I will ride to the Grand Marshal. 

Ven. But they say he never changes a sentence. 

CiG. Perhaps not- but what he refuses to justice and humanity he 
may not refuse to one of his own rank, (starts to go.) 

Ven. Stay — one word. 

CiG. No; this is no time for words. If you love him go to him, and 
let the bullets intended for him first kill you. 

[Exit, R. u. E. Venetia crosses to Guakd. 

Guard. Halt ! (holds gun m front of her.) 

Ven. Your prisoner is Louis Victor, is he not ? 

Guard. Yes. 

Ven. He is to be shot at sunrise T 

Guard. Yes. 

Ven. I heard of it yesterday. I rode all night from Oran. I feel a 
great pity for this man. His crime was 

Guard. A blow to his colonel and threat to kill after. 

Ven. Is there no possibility of a reprieve ? 

Guard. None. 

Ven. May I speak with him for an instant ? I have heard he is of 
my country, and of a rank above his present standing here. 

Guard. I am sorry, madame, but I have my orders to allow none to 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 29 

Ven. Were your colonel here he would not refuse me permission to 
see him. 

Guard. Perhaps not But you must go to the colonel's tent and get 
a permit; otherwise 1 can't allow you to pass. 

Ven. (aside). Must 1 ask a favor of that man? I will ! He must not 
perish. [Kcit, r. 1 e. Exit Guard, slowly, l. 1 e. 

Enter Rake, r. 3 e. 

Rake {looking of). What's up with Cigarette, I wonder. She passed 
me on her horse like a sthrake of lightning, {looks l.) Poor mastherl 
Sorry the day I'd like to see him die. He won't let me tell thim wiio 
he is; but, begorra, I must do something, or bust. If 1 could get him 
to change places with me he might make his escape. Begorra, we look 
so much alike they'd never know the difl'erence. I suppose they'd shoot 
me when they did. I was born to be shot at; a regular sample to try 
new guns on. Now I'll just slip by before the guard comes, and 

Enter Guard, quickly, L. 1 e. 

Guard {stops him). Halt ! 

Rake. Och, murther ! {turns) The divil's loose now. 

Enter Black Hawk and Venetia, r. 1 E. 

B. H. What are you doing here ? 

Rake. Nothin', sor. 

B. H. Call the corporal of the guard. 

Gti] kKT> {calling). Corporal of the guard. Post 4 I 

Voice {outside). Corporal of the guard, Post 4 ! 

Enter Corporal, l. 1 e. 

B. H. {to Rake). This is the second time you have been seen prowling 
around here; your intimacy with the prisoner makes your presence sus- 
picious. Have you any orders for leaving your quarters ? 

Rake. No, sor; shure I must have lost thlm. 

B. H. {to Corporal). Place that man under arrest. 

Rakg. Let me explain. 

B. H. Not a word. Take him to the guard house, {exit Rake, fol- 
lomed by Corporal. To Venetia) My lady, you can see and talk to 
the prisoner for a short time. Make your interview as brief as possible, 
for he has not long to live. {Exit, r. 1 e. 

Enter Bertie, from prison. 

Bert. Venetia ! You here ? I thou2:ht you had left Africa. 

Ven. Do you think I could leave Africa knowing that you were under 
sentence of death? I rode all night from Oran to implore, to beg you 
to tell them who you are. They know not what they do. 

Bert. They but obey the sentence of the law. Do not regret it; it is 
better so. 

Ven. Better that you should die? That blow was struck for me; if 
you die it is I who have killed you ! 

Bert. Hush ! Hush ! Do not make me die a coward. I cannot tell 
you a lie, and the truth I will never tell to you. Do not plead for me. 
Leave me; it will soon be over. 



30 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 

Ven. Leave you? Never! I will remain with you till the last; and 
if you do not speak I will. 

Bert. It would be useless. I cannot return to England ; I was ac- 
cused 

Ven. {mterruxiting). Not by Philip— not by me. 

Bert. What! You have never doubted ? 

Ven. Never. I know your honor to be as stainless as my own. 

Bert. Thank God ! Then I can die in peace, {they go up stage,) 

Enter Black Hawk, r. 3 e., with file of soldiers, down r. 

B. H. My lady, make your farewell; you must leave the prisoner. 

Ven. {wildly). No, you shall not kill him ! You know not who he is. 
He is of my country— a nobleman. I will appeal to your emperor. Give 
me an hour to seek your marshal. 

B. H. What you ask is impossible. Further entreaty is useless; the 
law must take its course. 

Ven. An hour's reprieve. 

B. H. Impossible. 

Ven, But you do not dream who he is. 

B. H. It matters not. 

Ven. He is an English nobleman ! 

B. H. He is a soldier who has broken the law. Corporal, remove 
this lady beyond the lines. 

Enter Rockingham, quickly, l. 1 e. 

Rock. Hold ! What is the meaning of this! And Venetia, why are 
you here ? What interest can you have in the life or death of this man ? 
They say he is of my country; I must see him — speak to him. {turns, 
see/ Bertie) That face ! Speak, man ! Who are you ? 

Bert. Philip! 

Rock, {rushes forward, takes his hand). Cecil ! You still live ! I 
thought you dead so long ago ! Thank God, I have found you at last! 
Why did* you not make yourself known to me, if lost to all the world be- 
side ? And how is it I find you condemned to death ? 

B. H. Monsieur, make yoiir farewell ; I can wait no longer. 

Rock. I tell you he must not die. As I live you shall not fire. 
{places himself in front of Bertie) Before your bullets reach this man 
they must first pass through my body. 

Bekt. My friend, for my sake— for the sake of our common country 
and our old love — let us both meet this with courage and with silence. 

Rock. Are you mad, to die here like a dog? What crime have you 
committed ? 

Bert. None, save being moved under insult to act as men of our 
nation have always acted." 

B. H. Corporal" Victor, you have been found guilty of one of the worst 
crimes known to the Army of Africa. Your sentence has been passed; 
we are here to execute it. Have you anything to say ? 

Bert. Only this: that a coward, a liar, and a traducer, cannot won- 
der that men prefer death to submission under insult. Well, I am 
ready; give your signal. It will be the only kind act you have ever 
done me. 

B. H. Attention ! 

CiG. {outside, m distance). Hold ! Hold ! 

B. H. Ready ! 



UNDER TWO FLAGS. 31 

CiG. (07iiside, nearer). Hold ! Hold ! A pardon ! 

B. H. Aim ! 

CiG. {outside, still nearer). Hold! Hold! In the name of France, 
hold ! {she rushes on, r. 1 e., between Bertie and troopers, waving 
pardon as she eiders.) 

B. H. Fire ! (Cigarette is shot ; falls c, in Bertie's arms.) 

All. Cigarette! {drop gnns ; low music.) 

CiG. A pardon for your corporal ! {holds paper toward Black Hawk.) 

B. H. {takes p(tper, looks at it). Where did you get this ? 

CiG. From the Grand Marshal's own hand. 

B. H. Damnation ! {retires up stage R.) 

Bert, {kneeling). Child, you have given your life for mine ! 

CiG. 'Tis nothing. I would have done it for any one of my soldiers. 
Bury me where the army passes, so that I can hear the trumpet and the 
drum; bury — my cross with me — {ki.^ses cro.^.'^) and tell them in — 
France— Ah ! if I could only see France once more— France— (c/te*. All 
kneel, except Black Hawk, with bared heads.) 

Bert. Dead! Dead! 

Tableau. 
Soldiers. 

Black Hawk. Roceinoimic 

Bertie. 
Cigarette. XTknetta. 

CUBTAIN. 



WON BACK 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 

By CLIFTON W. TAYLEUR 

Six male, four female, characters. A play -written in tbe came vein 
as " Held by the Enemy," "Shenandoah," " Across the Potomac," and 
other great New York successes. Mr. Tayleur has written many suc- 
CGBsful plays for Maggie Mitchell, Frank Chanfrau, and others, but 
this striking picture of the stirring times of the Great Eebellion sur- 
passes them all. Costumes, civil and military of the period. Scenes, 
two interiors, and one landscape with Confederate camp, easily man- 
aged. Time of playing, two hours and thirty minutes. 

PRICE 25 CENTS. 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, 

ACT I. — Drawing-room, Arlington, Washington— 1 86©. 

** Whom first we love, you know, v?e seldom wed ; 
Time rules us all : and life indeed is not 
The thing we planned it out, ere hope was dead, 
And then, we women cannot choose our lot." 

In fetters — The rivals— North and South— The coy widow — A noted 
duelist— An old affection — The dismissal — The rivals meet — "Yoq 
shall answer for this " — Farewell. 

ACT II — Same Scene— 1860. 

** Who might have been— Ah, what, I dare not think t 
We all are changed. God judges for the best. 
God help us do our duty, and not shrink, 
And trust in Heaven humbly for the rest. 

Broken tios — A Vassar girl's idea of matrimony — A Washington 
savage — Schooling a lover— Affairs of honor — The Northern fire-eater*- 
The missing challenge — Betrothed. 

ACT III.— Drawing-room in New York Hotel— i86ir 

•* With bayonets slanted in the glit*et-ing light 
With solemn roll of drums. 
With starlit banners rustling wings of ni)rht» 
The knightly concourse comes. * 

To arms! To arms !— Stand by the flag— A woraaii's duty— A skirm- 
ish in the parlor— On to Richmond — Reunited— Tne passing regiment, 

ACT IV.— Confederate Camp at Winchester'— XS64. 

** No more shall the war cry sever, or the winding river be re«i ; 

They bamsh our anger forever, when they lanrel Uie graves of our ^^fA."^ 

A coward's armor— A hand to h-ttd nlruggle — Hugh captuiioA— SeB- 
lenced to be shot — A ministering augei— Harold King's revenge —The 
attack on the camp— Death of filog — After ths battle— "Won BacJvt- 

Single copies ecnt, post-p<^ '^'^'%ny addfeM, oe i*«e«ipt of price. 



HAQEMAN'S MAKE=UP BOOK. 

By MAURICE HAQEMAN. 

Author of "What Became of Parker," "Prof. Robinson," "Hector," "Mr«. 
Mulcahy," "The First Kiss," "By Telephone," "To Rent," etc. 

Price, 25 cents. 

The importance of an effective make-up is becoming more apparent to 
the professional actor every year, but hitherto there has been no book on the 
subject describing the modern methods and at the same time covering all 
branches of the art. This want has now been filled. Mr. Hageman has had 
an experience of twenty years as actor and stage-manager,andhis well-known 
liteiaryability has enabled Lim to put the knowledge so gained into shape 
to be of use to others. The book is an encyclopsedia of the art of making up. 
Every branch of the subject is exhaustively treated, and few questions can 
be asked by professional or amateur that cannot be answered by this admira- 
ble hand-book. It is not only the best make-up book ever pnhlished, hut it. 
is not likely to be superseded by any other. It is absolutely indispensable 
to every ambitious actor. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter I. General Remarks. 

Chapter 11. Qrease=Paints. their origin, components and use. 

Chapterlll. The Make=upBox. Grease-Pnints, Mirrors, Face Powder and 
Puff, Exora Cream, Rouge, Liquid Color, Grenadine, Blue for the Eyelids, 
Brilliantine for the Hair, Nose Putty, Wig Paste, Mascaro, Crape Hair, 
Spirit Gum, Scissors, Artists' Stomps, Cold Cream, Cocoa Butter, Recipes for 
Cold Cream. 

Chapter IV. Preliminaries before Making up; the Straight Make-up 
and how to remove it. 

Chapter V. Remarks to Ladies. Liquid Creams, Rouge, Lips, Eyebrows, 
^Eyelashes, Character Roles, .Jewelry, Removing Make-up. 

Chapter VI. Juveniles. Straight Juvenile Make-up, Society Men, 
Young Men in 111 Health, with Red Wigs, Rococo Make-up, Hands, Wrists, 
Cheeks, etc. 

Chapter VII. Adults, Middle Aged, and Old Men. Ordinary Type of 
Mauhood, Lining Colors, Wrinkles, Rouge, Sickly and Healthy Old Ag^ 
Ruddy Complexions. 

Chapter VIII. Comedy and Character Make°ups. Comedy Effects, 
Wigs, Beards, Eyebrows, Noses, Lips, Pallor of Death. 

Chapter IX. The Human Features. The Mouth and Lips, the Eyes and 
Eyelids, the Nose, the Chin, the Ear, tne Teeth. 

Chapter X. Other Exposed Parts of the Human Anatomy. 

Chapter XI. Wigs, Beards, Moustaches, and Eyebrows, Choosing 
a Wig, Powdering the Hair, Dimensions for Wigs, Wig Bands, Bald Wigs, 
Ladies' Wigs, Beards on Wire, on Gauze, Crape Hair, Wool, Beards for 
Tramps, Moustaches, Eyebrows. 

Chapter XII. Distinctive and Traditional Characteristics. North 
American Indians, New England Farmers, Hoosiers, Southerners, Politicians. 
Cowboys, Miners, Quakers, Tramps, Creoles, Mulatoes, Quadroons, Octo- 
roons, Negroes, Soldiers during War, Soldiers during Peace, Scouts. Path- 
finders, Puritans, Early Dutch Settlers, Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, 
Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, Portuguese, South Americans, Scandina* 
vians, Germans, Hollanders, Hungarians, Gipsies, Russians, Turks, Arabs, 
Moors, Caffirs, Abyssinians, Hindoos, Malays, Chinese, Japanese, Clowns and 
Statuary, Hebrews, Drunkards, Lunatics, Idiots, Misers, Rogues, 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHINQ COMPANY, 

CHICAQO, ILLINOIS. 



LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 

nn, 

014 458 078 3 f 



PLAYS. 



BEING the largest theatrical booksellers in 
the United States, we keep in stock the most 
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We can supply any play or book pub- 
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The Dramatic Publishing Company, 

CHICAGO. 



